Just In Time
by marauderette-47
Summary: "It's actually a funny story, really. Harry's stuck back in 1976 with the other Marauders and Lily, and I've somehow been blasted here to 1995 with you Order members. Probably not too bad of a thing - Remus and Sirius seem so lost without me!"
1. Grim Old Place

**Just In Time**

**By: marauderette-47**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

**Author's Note: Enjoy the story! I've been dying to write this one for a while:) And if you've ever read 'James Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' by PeachyKeen13, then you'll notice that some of her ideas have been incorporated in this story. Before you tell me that I copied her, let me state that I got her permission to use them before even starting to write:) So without further ado, enjoy the story!**

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><p><em>Chapter One: Grim Old Place<em>

The echoes of Orion Black's hard wooden shoes can still be heard down each hallway of Number 12 Grimmauld Place if you care to listen. The screeches of Wallburga Black did not die with her. The legacy of the family that once lived in the current Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix did not die with the family - for the whole family is not yet deceased. The woman and her husband - despite what they stated in their will - did not only have one son. The will of Wallburga Black stated that her only son was Regulus - a fine young man, who was murdered brutally before his time. The will of Orion Black stated that he never had any other son other than Regulus Arcturus Black. When asked about another son called 'Sirius', Orion's face would turn an odd shade of purple before he yelled at you never to say that name in his house. So it goes without saying that the Black family did not recognize one of their own by the name of Sirius.

But after the parents and brother were dead, Sirius inherited the home that he hated - the home of the family who never loved him, the home of the family who never appriciated him, and the home of the family who would have rather pretended he didn't exist. Sirius had never made a secret of his hatred towards his family. His best friend, James Potter, could have recited Sirius's rant about his mother right along with him every time he said it. Sirius told James everything - there wasn't a single secret between the two. But sometimes, Sirius felt out of place when he talked to James about his home life. James didn't understand what it had been like, growing up in the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. James had grown up the only child of two Pure Bloods who spoiled him rotten and loved him dearly. James always got whatever he wanted, no questions asked. But despite all of that, Sirius trusted no one more than he trusted James, and the feeling was entirely mutual.

So of course, when James was killed well before his time, Sirius lost what was left of his mind and heart. He had grown to think of James (and his two other friends, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew) as his makeshift family. He had already lost his blood family - would he be doomed to lose all that was left?

He was indeed. James was killed by the man whom his parents whole-heartedly supported. James was killed by the friend that Sirius thought he could trust - Peter. But when it happened, Sirius could think of no one to blame but himself. Had it not been him who had suggested trusting Peter in the first place? The moment the name 'Peter' entered his mind, Sirius knew that he had no choice. He had to kill the thing that had taken away his family once again. In a fit of grief and despair, Sirius Black had hunted down his old friend, with the intent of killing him. But Peter Pettigrew - commonly referred to as 'Wormtail' - was cunning, and framed Sirius. Sirius spent twelve long years in Azkaban Prison after being accused of murdering James, Peter, and countless others, witout a trial. Sirius did, however, break out of prison to right the wrongs which had been done to him and reunite with his godson, Harry Potter, who was James's son. While Sirius could not dispose of Pettigrew the way he wished he could have, he did get to have Harry in his life, and he believed that it was all worth it.

When Albus Dumbledore asked Sirius if he knew of a place where the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix - a society dedicated to the murder of the man who had killed James and his wife, Lily, leaving Harry an orphan - could be set up, Sirius knew what he had to do. Since Dumbledore would let him do no other job to help the Order (since he was still a wanted man for breaking out of prison) Sirius gave Dumbledore full use of his parents' home - Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Unfortunately for Sirius, this meant moving right back into the home that he had left without looking back on when he was just sixteen years old. Sirius lived in this house alone most of the time, its only other permanent occupants being the ghosts of Sirius's past and a crotchety old house elf called Kreacher. But the Order of the Phoenix was at Grimmauld Place all the time, and so Sirius did not feel alone as often as he thought he would have.

Number 12's other most frequent occupant was Remus John Lupin, mutual friend of James and Sirius. One of their best friends, in fact. After James's death, Sirius had no choice but to refer to Remus as his best friend. Remus was good company, most of the time, and he kept Sirius from losing his grip on reality and going mental. Sirius had begun to heal from his time in Azkaban, but part of him was still a scared little boy who missed his best friend very much. He had never been given true time to grieve for the friend that he lost, and so Sirius tried not to think about it if he could help it. But Harry - who Sirius did not see as much as he would have liked to - looked exactly like James, and so it was hard not to focus on his old best friend when he practically came waltzing through the door every time his son walked in the room. Sirius tried never to show anyone how much seeing Harry hurt Sirius, because seeing Harry was the only thing that truly made Sirius happy as well. Sirius Black was a complicated man.

It had been just another day for Sirius Black on the morning our story begins. The month before, Sirius had had the pleasure (or, perhaps, displeasure) of welcoming Harry Potter to Number 12 Grimmauld Place for the first time. Harry had to prepare for a hearing at the Ministry of Magic for a case of underage wizardry, and Sirius was trying to support his godson any way he could. Harry had been having a hard time of things, as of late, and Sirius was beginning to feel useless to help his best friend's son. Sirius wasn't ever really the paternal type, and he helped Harry the only way he knew how: James. James had often been a giver of good advice, and Sirius had tried his hardest to never forget a single word James had ever said to him. So when Harry came to Sirius with a problem, Sirius would pull one of James's old quotes from the recesses of his mind, and he would offer Harry the best advice that he could.

Harry had gone to bed that night, and Sirius had gone into his room to check on him around three o'clock in the morning. Things had seemed particularly normal, too normal, perhaps, and so Sirius had gone to bed not worrying any more than he had the night before. But what he didn't know was that very soon, his life was about to take a surprising twist, and he would never be the same man again.

But this is not a story about Sirius Black. This is a story about James Potter.

It was 1976, and life for James Potter had never been better. The adult world of marraige, children, and the first Wizarding War seemed a lifetime away for sixteen year old James and his friends. Death was something that would come for them when they were old and grey, and life was all about having a good time. James's favorite activities included playing Chaser for Gryffindor House's best Quidditch team in three decades, pulling pranks on unsuspecting Slytherins, and asking out the elusive and gorgeous Lily Evans. James didn't have a care in the world, and he liked it that way. There was nothing that he should have to worry about - the war had yet to affect the boy directly, and so it did not even seem real to him. But that was all about to change.

It was several weeks before James's sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Himself and his fellow 'Marauders' (Sirius, Remus, and Peter) had been staying at James's house for the summer, and they had been having a grand time. The exceptionally warm air had been ideal for practicing their Animagi transformations, and the boys had been putting a lot of work and effort into perfecting their full-proof map of their mysterious and magical school. They had been drinking Butterbeer and playing Exploding Snaps in James's lounge on the evening of July 1. The boys had just finished putting their evening's fun away, and Remus and Peter had gone to bed, when Sirius and James finally made their way up to James's room, which was the room that they shared.

They each prepared for bed quietly, as they were quite tired and didn't feel much like talking. However, once the lights had been shut off and they were warm in their beds, Sirius decided to strike up a conversation.

"James?" whispered Sirius quietly. "Prongs, you awake?"

"Am now," grumbled James, turning over on his side so that he was facing Sirius. "What is it?"

"I feel like something's about to happen," murmured Sirius quietly, and James was sure that his friend was blushing in embarrasment of revealing his emotions so nakedly. "Something...bad."

"What do you mean?" asked James, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice. Then he chuckled, and said, "What, are you a Seer now? Going to teach Divination when you're older?"

"Shove off," laughed Sirius. "I'm trying to be serious. I feel like something's about to...change."

"Change is always happening around us, young one." chortled James, attempting a weak imitation of Albus Dumbledore. "It cannot be stopped or influenced."

"You know, the scary thing is," laughed Sirius. "that that's probably something he'd say."

James rolled his eyes, and turned his body back so that he was once again facing his wall. "G'night, then Sirius. Don't let the gnargles bite."

"What the bloody hell's a gnargle?" groaned Sirius, as he, too got comfortable in his bed.

"No idea," yawned James. "Somethin' I overheard Xenoph-"

"If you're even going to end that statement with 'ilius Lovegood', don't bother. I understand completely. Goodnight Prongs." laughed Sirius.

"Goodnight Padfoot."

And the two best friends fell asleep moments later, each with dreams and hopes and futures dancing around in their minds. But something different was happening to James's mind. When Sirius woke up the next morning, he would not be greeted with a cheery 'Good Mornin'!' from James. He'd be greeted with an exceptionally confused and slightly worried Harry Potter. And James would be waking up to the sound of a practice Apparation of Fred and George Weasley.

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><p>1995<p>

The _crack _of an Apparation woke James Potter up from perhaps the best dream he'd ever had. He had been on the moon, with his Lily, conjuring his Patronus to dance around with her. She had laughed, and looked into his eyes with a look of pure love and joy. And right before they had finally kissed -

_Crack! _The sound of two Apparations caused James to shoot upright in bed, gasping. He heard the sound of laughs, but the people who were making them were hard to see in the dark, and it didn't help that James's round, wire-rimmed glasses were not on his face. James groped his bedside table for them, and slapped them on his face quickly. At first, James thought he was still dreaming. He definitely was no longer in his bedroom at the Potter House. The bed he had been sleeping in was cold, and smelled musty. The only other occupied bed in the room was occupied by a red-headed boy, definitely not Sirius. The room itself was rather depressing - cold and damp and with a general sad atmosphere. The two people who had Apparated next to James - who he was quite certain he had never met before - were twins. They had red hair, and mischeivious grins, kind of reminding James of himself and Sirius. And all of this was fine - but it didn't make sense. How did James get to this place? Who were these people?

"Ah, Harry!" beagan one of the twins.

"Didn't scare you, did we?"

"Thought you were used to it by now-"

"-us coming in here every night, anyways-"

"-even Ronniekins doesn't wake up anymore!"

"And you've been dorming with him-"

"-you _know _the way he is!"

"I-I'm sorry?" stumbled James, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. "But did you just call me 'Harry'?"

"Well, we weren't calling you 'Ron'." replied one of the twins, laughing. "Of course we called you 'Harry'! That is your name, isn't it?"

"Er...no?" said James uncomfortably.

"No?" gasped the other twin. "Is the famous Harry Potter claiming that he's forgotten who he is?"

**(Just a random thought - would this not have been the perfect moment for the twins to break out into 'You're Harry Freaking Potter' from the Very Potter Sequel? Just saying;) ) **

"Famous Har - what?" asked James, obviously confused. "Is Sirius playing some kind of joke on me? Or is this all a dream? Who are you? And where _are _we?"

"We're at Headquarters, silly." said the first twin who had spoken, rolling his eyes. "And I'm Fred. Remember me?"

"And I'm George." said George cheekily. "I don't _think _Sirius is playing a joke on you - he's been a sleep for about an hour, anyway."

"Did we answer all his questions, Georige?"

"I do believe so, Freddie."

"Headquarters?" asked James, finally giving up and getting out of the bed. The rickety old wooden floor hurt James's bare feet, but he ignored it for the sake of finding out what in Merlin's name was going on. "Headquarters for what?"

"The Order, of course!" laughed Fred. "Seriously, Harry, did you somehow damage your brain during the night? How do you not remember this?"

"Maybe we should take him to Mum," said George thoughtfully.

"And scare her out of her wits? Nah, better off with Dad."

"He isn't here - the Ministry called him in early, remember?"

"We could take him to Sirius."

"Yeah!"

"Sirius it is!"

"Someone, please just explain to me what's going on!" shouted James finally, giving up on the niceness and becoming angry. "I want to know where I am, who I'm with, and why I'm not at home with my friends!"

"Quiet!" shushed Fred and George at the same time. "You'll wake the whole house!"

"I don't care!" screeched James. "Let them wake! Maybe _they'll _tell me how I got here!"

"Keep your knickers on!" hissed Fred. "We'll go get Sirius and bring him back in a minute, okay?"

"Yeah," nodded George. "Just stay here, and...we'll be back."

Before James could oppose, the red-headed twins Apparated from the bedroom, leaving James alone with the other sleeping boy. James was amazed that he had not woken up - he must have been a lot like Sirius. Hard to wake, that is. James wondered if this really all _was _a joke played on him by Sirius, Remus, and Peter. If it was, they must have spent months planning it - they knew how hard it was to full James. The more James thought about it, the more he became positive that all of this _must _be a joke. Yeah! Of course!

"Haha!" shouted James. "Alright, very funny boys - I'll admit it, you got me! Now turn everything back before I go stag-power on you!"

"Are you threatening dementors, Harry?"

James jumped, and turned around. Where Fred and George had been just a few minutes earlier, there now stood a man. James couldn't make out his features well in the dark, but James could tell that he was tall, he was still in his night-clothes, and he loved his hair. Since James had not heard an Apparation, he assumed the man must have been semi-normal enough to just walk through the door.

"Who are you? I thought the twins said they were going to get Sirius Black," said James accusingly, glaring at the man who had entered.

The man rolled his grey eyes. "So sorry, but they sent this old lump instead."

"I think I'd prefer Sirius, if you don't mind. I need to give him a good kick in the-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what did _he _do?" the man asked defensively, automatically cringing away from James.

"He must be afraid," laughed James, standing up to meet this new stranger. "The scared little kid plays a joke on me, and now he's afraid that I'm going to kill him. Would you please tell him that if he comes quietly now, I'll keep his punishment minimal? It's far too late for Peter and Remus. They're dead meat."

"What?" asked the man, laughing nervously. "What are you talking about, Harry? Are you feeling alright?"

"And I do wish everyone would stop calling me Harry," said James, after a moment of thought. "Bit annoying, really. If you have issues with my actual name, you can just call me 'Prongs'. All my friends do."

"Your friends call you 'Prongs'?" asked the man, confused. "And what do you mean your name's not Harry? Of course it is! You're Harry Potter- y'know, the Boy Who Lived, the best Quidditch player in a century, _my _godson-"

"I'm sorry," mumbled James. "But if - for some creepy reason - this isn't a dream or a joke, then you must have me confused with someone else. I have no idea what a 'Boy-Who-Lived' is, I'm a fair Quidditch player, but I'm sure there are better than me, and my godfather is Richard Potter, and I'm quite sure you're not him, seeing as he's been dead for three years."

"Maybe we should call in Poppy," said the man suddenly. "Maybe there's-there's something wrong-"

"There's definitely something wrong," grumbled James. "But nothing wrong with _me._ More like everyone else, really."

The man finally seemed to give up, and so he grabbed James by the hand and pulled him from the dark, depressing bedroom. James barely had time to take in all of his surroundings, the rate the man pulling him was running. But James did see a lot of old, scary looking portraits, old antique artifacts, and many, many rooms. The house he was in was enormous, and if he didn't know any better, he would have claimed that it was Sirius's old house. It looked just as he had described to him. "Dark...evil, pulsing from the walls...gloomy...lots of old wizarding artifacts..." Sirius had said. James - after five minutes of running - suddenly found himself in what had to be the dining room. The table in the middle of the room was enormous, and the man who James had been running with forced James into a seat.

"Stay," he commanded. "And I'll be back in _two _minutes."

"Yes, Mum." replied James cheekily. The man rolled his eyes again, and jogged out of the room.

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><p>"Moony," whispered Sirius Black. He had just jogged from the dining room where he had left behind a very confused Harry, and now he was in the dark room of his best friend, Remus. He had his father's long old can in his hands, and was prodding Remus with it from three feet away. "Remus!"<p>

"Wha'?" mumbled Remus, turning over in his bed. Sirius prodded him with the stick again, and Remus said a bit more clearly, "Wha' is it, Seeerus?"

"There's a small issue with Harry," whispered Sirius, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice. "And I don't know what to do."

This seemed to wake Remus up further, and he sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He looked warily to his friend, and asked, "What is it?"

"He can't seem to remember...much." said Sirius uncertainly.

"What do you mean 'much'?" questioned Remus, finally giving up and getting out of bed completely. He stood up to face Sirius, and watched as Sirius gave him a rather rushed answer.

"He knows our names - I heard him say 'Sirius' and 'Remus' and he even mentioned Peter. But he didn't recognize me, or where he was, or the twins, and he kept saying that he wasn't Harry Potter."

"Well did you tell him that he is?" asked Remus carefully, more like he was speaking to a two-year-old than a thirty-five year old.

"Of course I did!" whispered Sirius. "But did he listen? No! Come on Remmy, please help me!"

Remus sighed. He knew already that it was about to be a very long night. "Fine. But do _not _call me Remmy again. Ever."

"Deal." grinned Sirius. "Come on, I've left him in the dining room."

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><p>"Ah, and the old man returns!" grinned James, observing as the man came back into the room with another older man. "But I see you've yet to bring me Sirius Black."<p>

"Harry," said the man's friend, coming up to sit next to James. "The man next to me _is _Sirius Black. And I'm Remus Lupin. Remember? I was your Defense Professor two years ago? And you're staying at Grimmauld Place with the Order of the Phoenix."

"_You're _Remus Lupin?" laughed James. "And _he's _Sirius Black? That's impossible! You've both got to be fifty or something - Sirius and Remus are only sixteen. And Grim Old Place? Please! Even if this _is _all a joke, Sirius wouldn't bring us here! He hates this place!"

"Why are you acting so strange, Harry?" pleaded 'Remus', staring into James's eyes. It was only then that he noticed they were hazel...

"My God," gasped 'Remus', moving away from James as quickly as humanly possible. "My God..."

"What?" asked 'Sirius', not liking being kept out of Remus's discovery. "What is it?"

"Finally come to your senses, did you?" asked James skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "I told you - I'm not Harry."

"My God," gasped Remus again. "James..."

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><p>1976<p>

"Potter. Harry Potter. I'm not James, Sirius!"

Harry Potter had had a number of odd and dangerous experiences in his life. When he was just a baby, he destroyed the powers of the Darkest wizard of the age, Lord Voldemort. He grew up unloved by his Muggle relatives, and found out when he was eleven that he was a wizard. He went to a magical school called Hogwarts, and played a magical sport called Quidditch. He faced and destroyed Lord Voldemort three more times while at school, and bore witness to his rebirth. He had fallen hundreds of feet from a broomstick, had all the bones in his arm re-grown, 'popped' into places through thin air, and battled a dragon. Still, Harry Potter had never been more shocked then when he woke up the morning when this story begins.

When he had gone to sleep the night before, it had been in the cold and musty bed in his room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He'd eaten dinner with Sirius, Remus, Ron, Hermion, Fred, and George, and he'd played three rounds of Exploding Snaps. It had been a relatively normal evening for the young wizard, but now it was anything but normal. When he woke up, he was in a soft, warm bed in a light, open, warm house. He'd been awoken by force, having a soft down pillow thrown at his head by a young and carefree Sirius Black. To say that Harry was surprised to see his godfather looking so happy and handsome was an understatement. At first he was sure that the changes around him were nothing but a joke, but now, he wasn't so sure. Sirius refused to believe that he was Harry - he was adament that the boy in front of him was his best friend and Harry's father, James.

"Okay, 'Harry', whatever you say." laughed Sirius, throwing a shirt at Harry. "Go on, get dressed. Since your mummy dearest is out for the day, Remus is making breakfast. I know he has Pete to help, but frankly, I think I'd feel much better if we were there to assist him."

It wasn't until Sirius said Peter Pettigrew's name with such a carefree and friendly tone that Harry realized something was incredibly wrong. Even if Sirius _was _good at playing jokes, he would never say Wormtail's name without spitting afterward. But here Sirius was, discussing Peter as if he was still a Marauder - as if he was still a faithful friend. And Harry couldn't sit there and listen to that.

"Sirius, stop that!" shouted Harry, throwing the shirt Sirius had thrown him on the ground. "How can you even say Wormtail's name without flinching? It's his fault that mum and dad are dead!"

"W-What?" asked Sirius, who was still nervously smiling. However, the tone his voice had gone from joking to worry, and he stared at Harry concernedly for a moment. He stared into his eyes, and only then did he notice that they were just like, "L-Lily's eyes..."

"Can you please tell me what's going on here, Sirius?" begged, Harry, staring at his godfather. He looked into Sirius's eyes, and noticed that they lacked the haunted look that Harry was so used to seeing in them. It didn't matter if this was a joke or not - Sirius's eyes were untainted by Azkaban, and Harry knew that he was no longer someplace he was familiar with. "When am I?"

"What do you mean by that?" asked Sirius inquisitively. "M-Maybe I should go and get Re-"

"Sirius. What's the year?" asked Harry, trying to keep the worry out of his voice.

"N-1976, of course."

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><p><strong>I'm trying to keep the chapters as long as JK's in the actual books:) In PoA, I saw that the chapters were about 5,000 words, so that'll be the median for these:) I hope you liked this chapter and I hope the characters were, well, in character! Reviews give me inspiration to keep writing, so please review! They honestly and truly make my day to read when someone likes what I have written:) So...that's it! Review please, and I'll try to get the next chapter out soon! Thanks again and...okay! Buh-bye!<strong>

**~marauderette-47**


	2. A Bittersweet Nightmare

**Just In Time**

**By: marauderette-47**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!**

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the kind reviews! I looked and saw that this story - with just its one chapter - had over 130 visitors from 22 different countries! That's awesome! If you're enjoying this story, or even if you're not, please review! And if you don't have an FF account, I have anonymous reviews turned on! Okay, enough of this sappy pity party - I promised you all a story, so here it is! Chapter 2! (And please note, if there's too much sappiness, it's because I'm watching Order of the Phoenix right now and I'm all sad cause it's the part where Sirius dies:() Oh, and Happy New Year everyone!**

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><p><em>Chapter Two: A Bittersweet Nightmare<em>

1976

"N-1976, of course." replied Sirius uncertainly, looking at Harry with a rare expression of fear on his face. Harry froze for a moment in shock - he'd had a hunch that he was no longer in a recognizable place, but to hear the words so plainly from his godfather's lips made his heart pause for a moment. There was an audible moment of silence in the air, where only the sounds of Harry's breathing could be heard. When he finally managed to find his voice, all he could manage to say was, "W...What?"

"What do you mean, 'What'?" demanded Sirius acidly, taking a few steps away from Harry.

"Like I've been attempting to tell you," said Harry, surprisingly coolly. "I'm _not _James Potter - I'm _Harry _Potter. And it certainly wasn't 1976 when I went to bed last night!"

"Like I said," said Sirius shakily, backing even futher away. "I-I should go get Moony, he's the smart one, he'll know what's-"

"Sirius, don't look so scared of me," began Harry, not liking the frightened look on his godfather's face.

"How can I not? I don't even know you!" said Sirius angrily. He then proceeded to run out of the room, leaving Harry alone. Harry sat back down on the bed that he'd been asleep on, and put his head in his hands. A massive headache was already forming around his scar, and he was sure that he was going mental. It couldn't be 1976 - time travel that far back was impossible. You could only go back a few hours at most, as Harry knew from experience. And none of those rules even mattered - Harry didn't even _have _a Time Turner to travel back with! And a Time Turner certainly didn't explain why he was in his dad's old house.

Yes, he knew that was exactly where he was - Sirius had pretty much told him that during their conversation _before _he'd freaked out and run away. Sighing once again at the thought of Sirius being scared of him, Harry stood back up and put on the faded blue shirt Sirius had thrown him several minutes before. He walked on the soft carpet around the room, taking in his surroundings.

If this really _was _his dad's room, then his dad had been a very spoiled and pampered child. James's room reminded Harry of a wizarding-version of Dudley's room. James had _everything _- every book ever written, a signed Quidditch poster of every member of the Chudley Cannons, three broomsticks mounted on the wall, three closets filled wall length to wall length with robes for all occasions, and more. But none of those are what caught Harry's attention in the least - his dad seemed to have had a bit of a picture fascination. There were moving photos _everywhere. _Most of them seemed to be of James and the Marauders, from different stages in their lives. Most of the photos were comical, and Harry even found himself laughing a few times. There was even a picture of Harry's mum, Lily, looking very grumpy and annoyed with James. That only made Harry laugh more, though he found it odd that his mother had had any reason to be angry with his father.

Harry knew how the world worked; he knew that no one and no couple was perfect. But in all of his imaginings, Harry had always pictured Lily and James Potter being the two happiest people in the world, who had loved each other with an undying passion from the very beginning. Harry knew that it had been stupid to think that, but he'd never had any reason to think otherwise. He'd never even _spoken _with his parents...

"All thanks to _Pettigrew,_" spat Harry, looking away from the obviously quickly taken photo of Lily and James. Harry turned his back on his dad's room, and walked out into the hallway. He didn't care where he was going (he didn't have a clue where anything was anyway) but he knew that he had to get away. He had to wake up from this bittersweet nightmare - he had to stop seeing the lives of his parents before everything changed. It pained Harry to see the happy, past Marauders - for Harry knew their fates, and he knew what a sad, broken man Sirius Black would become. He knew what a lonely, quiet person Remus Lupin would turn into. He knew the bitter betrayal that Peter Pettigrew would commit. And he knew the deaths that awaited Lily and James Potter.

Heart still swelled with pain, Harry entered the first door he came to, not bothering to knock. Thankfully, the room was empty of occupants. It seemed to be a guest room, as it was only the basic model of a bedroom. But there was _one _oddity the room held - it was a strangely out of place object on the dresser.

"_Why _is there a toaster here?" wondered Harry aloud to himself. Curiously, the young wizard reached out to pick up the Muggle appliance, and he turned it over in his hands. But he had barely touched it before a scarily familiar tugging at his navel made him scream, and then, he was no longer in his dad's house.

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><p>1995<p>

"My God," gasped Remus again. "James..."

"Er...Remus?" said Sirius uncomfortably, looking sadly to his godson. "Are you feeling alright? You know right well this is _Harry._"

"James," breathed Remus, staring at the boy in front of him for all he was worth. "But how-"

"Oh, for God's sake," said James, rolling his eyes. "We're perfectly clear on who _I _am, thank you. Now who the bloody hell are you two? And no lies! I _know _you're not Sirius and Remus, because Sirius and Remus are not _only _not fifty-something years old, they're also at _my _house, probably sleeping at the moment. Except Sirius. He's probably still awake. But whatever."

"James," asked Remus, acting as though he hadn't even heard a word of what his old friend had been saying. "How are you _here?_"

Sirius Black didn't have a clue as to what to think. His entire being seemed to have frozen the moment James began to speak. Sirius _knew _that voice - he'd listen to it ramble on and on for years. As he looked closer at James's features, he noticed the subtle differences that set the face before him apart from his godson's; the longer nose, the eye color, the ear shape - the small things that made James _James. _But none of that was the point - it was impossible for James to have been there. James had been dead for 14 years - and no spell could bring the dead back to life.

"Remus," said Sirius. "Remus, this _must _be a trick. James is dead- and you know that _nothing _can bring back the dead!"

"What nonsense are _you _spewing out, Grandpa?" sniggered James. "I'm not dead - I'm walking and talking and breathing, aren't I?"

"This is impossible," muttered Sirius, backing away from James as quickly as his legs could carry him. "Stop this, whatever you're doing!" screeched Sirius at James. "I don't care who you are, just get _out _of this house! My best friend has been _dead _for _fourteen bloody years! _Just - just go away!"

Without another word, Sirius stormed from the room up the steps. He made it to his room more quickly than he ever had before, and slammed the door shut with a _thud. _In his rage, he threw all of the comforters off of his bed, and broke a charm that was lying carelessly on the floor. He grabbed his hair in frustration, almost as though he was going to pull it from its roots. He felt anger, _fury. _Who would _dare _impersonate James? Practically throwing rotten food at his grave! Give Sirius a brief flicker of hope, and then pulling the rug out from under him!

Sirius let out a shout of frustration, and backed up into his dresser. When it was shaken, several items fell from the dresser, including a framed photograph of the four Marauders and Lily from their seventh year at Hogwarts. It fell to the hard wooden floor and shattered, causing glass to scatter all over everything. Sirius was furious for a moment, as he picked up the photograph, but upon looking at the picture within the frame, his breath came out in a _whoosh. _

It was the expressions on their faces perhaps, but Sirius felt as though he had never seen himself so happy. He was standing in the middle of the frame, smiling as he carelessly slung an arm around James and Remus, who were both grinning stupidly on either side of him. Lily was standing next to James, on her tip-toes, giving the messy haired Marauder a kiss on the cheek. If you looked at the picture carefully, you could see James's slight blush.

Then, on the other end of the photo next to Remus, was Peter. He looked just as _I'_happy as the rest of them, winking at the camera as it snapped the photo. Those times were so simple, so carefree...Voldemort and the Death Eaters seemed to be a lifetime away, and nothing could have torn the Marauders apart.

But things had changed oh, so much.

Sirius took another look at the James in the picture. It looked just exactly like the boy downstairs. The same stupid smile on his face, the same mischeif in his eyes...it took everything inside of Sirius not to run back down the old wooden steps to the dining room just to see James's face one last time before whoever was using Polyjuice turned back into themselves. But he couldn't - he couldn't just see James again to have him torn from his life one more time. Friendship hurt too much.

Saddened and suddenly quite tired, Sirius threw the framed picture of his happiest memories back on the floor, thus denting the fine golden framework. He turned off the lights in his room with a flick of his hand, and fell back onto his bed. He seemed to be asleep before his head hit the pillow, but his mind remained awake for a few moments more. He hoped to whoever was listening that it was all just a dream - he was upset enough most of the time as it was...did he _have _to be reminded of why?

All Sirius really wanted was to wake up from this bittersweet nightmare.

* * *

><p>"What's his problem?" asked James, turning to Remus after Sirius's little fit. "I don't even know him, yet he stands there and yells at me!"<p>

"James..." murmured Remus painfully, sitting next to his old friend at the table. "I don't think you quite understand what's going on. You've no idea-"

Despite the tense situation, James laughed. "_I've _no idea? About what! _You _two are the ones mistaking me for a dead man!"

"James," sighed Remus, ignoring the feeling of happiness that was erupting from within him at his ability to say his old friend's name again. "We're not _mistaking _you for anything. You _are _James Potter, yes?"

"Yeah," replied James uncertainly.

"Then...let me explain this to you. James, how old are you?"

"Sixteen." said James. "Why do you want to know how old I am?"

"Because I think you've gone forward in time."

It went against everything Remus knew to say the words aloud. Remus had always been the academic one of his group, and he'd read up on time travel many times. The only known method of _any _kind of time travel was using a Time-Turner, and Time-Turners could only take you _back _in time. _And _you could only go back a few hours at most. What he believed to have happened was beyond anything anyone could ever _dream _of. If Remus was correct, than James had gone forward nearly twenty years in time. That was all fine with Remus, but a question still burned in the back of his mind - _how?_

Meanwhile, James sat there dumbfounded. Had he heard this man right? _Time travel? _James was a clever young man - he _knew _that the only way you could travel through time was _backwards. _Almost for the first time, James noticed the tenseness of the room he was in. The man sitting next to him was perspiriing and panting, and the man before him had screeched his head off enough. And time travel would surely explain the reason _why _James didn't recognize anyone in this place...

James took a deep breath, and met the eyes of the man sititng next to him. But his next question died in his throat. He'd been _about _to ask him how far ahead in time he'd thought James had gone, but that question didn't matter anymore. James _knew _the pair of eyes that was staring back at him. They were so _familiar..._James knew exactly where he'd seen those eyes before. But surely...no. No way. Yet -

"_Remus?_" gasped James. "Is that _you?_"

Remus sighed in happiness, and leaned his head back. He recognized him. James recognized him. "Yes." he breathed.

"What happened to you, mate?" asked James. He didn't know how, but he _knew _this was Remus. He _knew _this was his old friend. But there was one thing James was _un_sure of - was he still _Moony?_

Remus let out a strained, humorless chuckle. "It's a long story," he sighed.

Then, another thought entered James's mind, and his mouth fell open again. "S-So that man," began James shakily. "Before, who was yelling at me...that really _was _Sirius?"

Remus looked sadly at James, and gave him a nod. James stared back at the steps which Sirius had stormed up several minutes before, and felt his heart nearly stop. Sirius had said that he was dead. _Why _was James dead? What in Merlin's name had happened to him?

"How'd I die?" he whispered almost inaudibly, gazing pleadingly at Remus.

"I can't tell you," answered Remus hoarsley. "When you go back to your own time, you'll know too much. It'll change the present."

"It looks to me as though the present already needs changing!" shouted James. "I don't care _what _you say, Remus! I'm _going _to find out what the bloody hell happened to me!"

Angry tears threatening to spill from his eyes, James ran from the table and trotted up the stairs he'd seen Sirius disappear up. He stormed down the hallway, not caring if he woke anyone up. His head felt like it was about to explode, his stomach felt like it had dropped to his butt - he prayed and prayed that it was all just a dream.

_It must be, _he thought to himself. _It has to be a dream. That's it. Time travel to the future is impossible. None of this is real, none of this is real..._

But nothing had ever felt _more _real in all of James's life.

* * *

><p>1976<p>

Angry yells from the floor below her made Lily Evans thrust her pillow over her face. She didn't want to listen to her sister moan and complain about her being home for the holidays - it was sad the way her family had worked ever since she'd recieved her letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She would go off to school for the year, and return for the holidays. Her sister would complain that she didn't want some 'freak' home so much, and her parents would try to relax their eldest child. But Petunia would play the part of 'distressed victim' quite well, and Mr. and Mrs. Evans would be torn between their children.

Lily had nearly given up hope of ever being able to reach out to her sister again. Petunia clearly wanted nothing to do with her, and Lily knew that she should just accept that. But part of her always held dear the memory of two little girls playing in the park, laughing and holding hands.

Before tears could dare escape from Lily's lovely green eyes, she sprung out of her soft, warm pink bed and glanced out of her curtained windows. It was very early morning obviously, and the sky outside was a light grey. Lily figured that as long as Petunia was screeching, she wasn't going to get much more sleep. Groggily, Lily walked to her closet, and put on the first thing she touched - which just so happened to be a knee-length sundress. Lily put it on without thinking, and went over by her door to turn on the light. As if by magic, ironically enough, the moment the light tunred on, a screaming boy appeared in Lily's room.

At first, Lily was terrified, and let out a girlish shriek herself. But the minute she saw who was there and the toaster he held in his hand, Lily became _irate._

"JAMES POTTER!" she screeched. "How _dare _you use a Portkey to get here! I thought Black was _joking _about that! LEAVE! RIGHT THIS INSTANT! If you don't, I'll - I'll - " unable to think of a very good threat so early in the morning, Lily said the first thing that came to mind. "I'll set my _sister _on you, and she's a right nasty piece of work!"

As though she heard herself being mentioned by a 'freak', Petunia Evans bursted through Lily's door not a moment later. And the moment that Harry looked up from the floor and saw his mother and his aunt, he fainted.

"Honestly, Lily!" sighed Petunia. "You just can't be normal for _five _minutes, can you?"

* * *

><p><strong>Oh, the drama! This was mostly a filler-chapter to set up the rest of the story, so please forgive me if it was a little boring. Next chapter <em>will <em>be more eventful, I pinky promise! Oh, but it has to be! In the next chapter, you can expect:**

**1) James to confront Sirius**

**2) Harry to try and explan himself to Lily and Petunia**

**3) The Marauders out searching for who they beileve is a hexed 'James'**

**4) Ron and Hermione meeting their best friend's dead father**

**And so much more! Oh, and there might be a little visit from some bad guys :O Anyways, I hope you guys at least thought this chapter was 'okay', and I hope I got the characters mostly in character! And if you liked this, please be sure to check out my new one-shot 'Those Voices', which is a songfic of the song from A Very Potter Sequel:) Okay, enough advertising! Pretty please review?**

**~marauderette-47**


	3. Confrontation

**Just In Time**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter (even though I _really _wish I did)**

**Author's Note: I know, it's been forever, and I really don't have an excuse other than EXTREME writer's block for this fic:( But I hope you enjoy this chapter! Also, if you enjoy stories about A) The Marauders B) The Marauders' reactions when James and Lily come back or C) Stories where Sirius is in time to save the Potters, check out my other fics 'Harry Potter and the Marauder's Secret', 'Yes, They're Siriusly Back', and 'All the Difference', respectively:) Okay, enough advertising, enjoy the chapter!**

***Also, at the moment, we're going to assume that the only people at Grimmauld Place at the moment are James, Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys, and Hermione:)**

* * *

><p><em>Chapter Three: Confrontation<em>

1995

James did not know how long he sat on the floor in front of Sirius's bedroom. He just sat there, staring vacantly at the wall, trying to figure out what the bloody hell was going on. He heard Sirius grumbling beyond the door, and James felt horrible. Horrible for the way he'd been so blunt with Sirius, horrible that Sirius had been through so much, and horrible for dying on his brother. He knew that Sirius must miss him terribly; James would have felt the same way if it had been Sirius who'd died. But James didn't have a clue as to how to get Sirius to open the door.

And then, and idea struck him.

"Sirius!" shouted James, banging on the door. What had Sirius called him earlier? Harry? "It's Harry! Open up, it's important!"

James faintly remembered Sirius mentioning that he was this 'Harry' figure's godfather. Maybe if he thought his godson needed him, he'd put his self-pity in a box and shut it for a few minutes to open the door. All James needed was a _moment_ - a _moment _to convince Sirius of who he was. It was killing him, the way things had turned out. Why was he dead? Why did Sirius and Remus look so _old_? All James needed was answers, and he knew he could get them...if Sirius would just open the damn door!

"Sirius, _please!_" begged James, pounding harder on the door still. "Open up!"

"You know the way he is when he's asleep, mate." laughed a voice from behind James. The latter turned around abruptly, and recognized the face of the boy who'd been sleeping in the bed across from his when he'd woken up. He bore a slight resemblance to the twins James had seen earlier, as he shared their freckles and red hair. He was grinning ear to ear, and was still in his nightclothes.

"What time is it?" asked James tiredly, giving the door one last hopeless glance.

"Too early to be awake," grumbled the boy. "But I'm up, anyway. My stomach's more important than sleep."

This boy behaved much like Sirius and, like Sirius, the boy obviously thought James was someone he was not. James rounded on the boy, and decided to try to get some answers from _him_, instead of pounding relentlessly on Sirius's door.

"Mind if I ask you something?" asked James, staring intently at the boy.

"Sure?" asked the boy uncertainly. "What's up?"

"What happened to James Potter?"

It took the boy a minute to answer. He gave James a funny look - a look that clearly said the boy thought he was insane. He scrunched his eyebrows, and cocked his head to the side, making him look like a lost dog. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he asked, "Are you feeling alright, mate?"

"Brilliant," replied James sarcastically, rolling his eyes. The boy seemed a little taken aback at James's attitude, but gave who he thought was his friend an answer to his odd question anyway.

"Harry," said Ron carefully. "Your dad died years ago...remember? He was killed by You-Know-Who."

James's heart stopped. Really, he should not have been so surprised; Voldemort was evil, and had been heard about for years back in James's time. He had already killed people, and they said he was only going to get more powerful. But to hear it so bluntly - to hear that he was going to _die _before he had even begun to live, was extremely unsettling. He thanked the red-head robotically, and the boy gave him another strange look as he exited the hallway, presumably towards the kitchen. James turned back to Sirius's door, and began to pound on it again.

"SIRIUS! OPEN UP!"

* * *

><p>1976<p>

James Potter had lived in the same house his entire life. It was big, with lots of space for him to run and play in. His parents were old, even by wizarding standards, and were very wealthy. James practically got everything he wanted, and that included a 'brother' to live with him.

Sirius Black had been staying with James since the first week of Summer that year, when he'd run away from his own, prejudiced home at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Sirius knew his way around Potter Manor even better than he had known his way around Grimmauld Place. So, needless to say, Sirius was able to run to the top-floor kitchen in record time, even when he was practically having a heart-attack the whole way there.

"Remus!" he was panting breathlessly as he finally entered the kitchen. "Moony! Need-help-can't-breathe!"

"Sirius!" shouted Remus, obviously annoyed. He rushed over to his friend and glared at him, asking Peter to keep an eye on the food. "Use your words! What's wrong?"

"Something's wrong with James!" said Sirius quickly, speaking in a very high-pitched voice. "He doesn't know who he is, and he didn't know where he was, and he - knew - and I- ugh! _You're _the smart one - fix it!"

"I'll see what I can do," said Remus, beginning to walk downstairs leisurely. Sirius followed his lycanthrop friend, and both could smell their breakfast burning behind them.

* * *

><p>1976: The Evans' House<p>

"What is Potter _doing _here?" grumbled Lily to herself, completely ignoring her sister. She brushed right past Petunia, and aimed a good kick at James's scrawny little leg - it felt good to kick him, almost like payback for everything he'd put her through. But the kick did nothing to wake James up, and Lily let out a shout of frustration. She couldn't very well tell her mum and dad that there was a boy in her room - they would \misinterperet her words entirely, and she would get in trouble. Asking Tuney or Severus was out of the question as well...so what was she to do?

"Lily!" screeched Petunia, getting in her sister's face. Even though Petunia Evans hadn't spoken civily to her sister in quite a long time, the prospect of being ignored by a 'freak' was just not in the cards. "Who is this _freaky _boy, and just _what _is he doing here?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be grumbling to myself, Petunia!" said Lily angrily. "I know him from school."

Petunia rolled her eyes, and practically spat at Lily. "Don't mention that _place _around me!"

Lily was beginning to get even more frustrated; she'd about had it with her sister. That, ontop of everything else that was going on, made Lily's blood boil, and she could feel her face turning red. She was _so_ tempted to just go and get her wand, but she held back. She couldn't get expelled from Hogwarts - no. So Lily took a few steadying breaths, and turned to face her sister full-front.

"_Listen _to me, Petunia," she hissed, narrowing her gorgeous emerald eyes dangerously. "I don't complain when you mention _your _school, and I don't drone on and on all the time about _your_ being a Muggle. Why not show a little respect, hm? Or better off, stop acting the way you do altogether! I'll live my life, you live yours, and we stay out of each other's business! Would _that _make you happy? Just go away, Petunia! Wouldn't want to get my _freak _germs on you!"

Petunia scoffed, annoyed, and flipped her perfect brown hair snootily. She quite literally stuck her nose up at her younger sister, and marched out of the room with more precision than a soldier. Her dress fluttered slightly behind her, and she slammed the door on her way out. Lily was seething even when the clock on her wall said that a full five minutes had passed since the argument. Lily took a moment more to collect her thoughts, before using her foot to flip Potter over on his back. He was still out cold by the looks of it, and the glasses that were pressed against his eyes were slightly crooked. Lily bent down next to the cocky, arrogant Gryffindor and shook his shoulders violently.

"Enough's enough, Potter," she said tiredly, her fight with her sister seemingly draining her of all energy. "Just get up and go home, will ya? You're going to get me into trouble if you stay here any longer."

Lily shook James's shoulders harder still, yet he did not budge. Lily knew that she could make the whole process move along much more quickly with a simple _Enervate!_, but she could not do that legally. Trying to stop a migraine from coming on, Lily contemplated slapping James across the face.

"Potter, come _on_! Up! Get up _now!_"

Meanwhile, Harry was in the middle of a very funny dream. But no - it could not have been real! His mother was dead, and his Aunt was certainly not a teenager. He could hear a harsh, hate-filled voice telling him to get up, and he figured he was back at Privet Drive, and that his Aunt wanted him to cook breakfast or something. Not wanting a scolding so early in the morning, Harry shot out of bed like a bullet from a gun. And that's when he realized -

He wasn't in a bed. He was on a floor, staring up at a gorgeous redhead with the exact same eyes as he. Harry rubbed his eyes, looking at his mum while the vision was still there. She had been so beautiful...Harry was sure he could stare at her forever...

But Harry remembered Dumbledore's words - it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Harry had to wake up from this mirage, and get on with his life. He had to make his mum proud. So he pinched his arm once, and the pain stung him sharply. Why wouldn't he just wake _up_?

"Y-You're not P-Potter..." said Lily shakily, staring at the boy in front of her. Their eyes met, and she noticed that the boy had green eyes, _her _eyes..."Who are you, and what are you doing here? Go away! Don't hurt me!"

"I-I'm not going to- to-" Harry stumbled on his words, and nervously got up from the floor. Lily followed suit, and stared at him still. Whoever this boy was, he was _not _James Potter - his nose was shorter, and his eyes were green, and his ears were the wrong shape -

_"Lily!" _scolded the little voice in the back of her mind. _"Do not notice the shape of Potter's ears!"_

"WHO ARE YOU?" demanded Lily again, once again contemplating getting her wand. One quick hex -

"Harry Potter!" the boy said defensively, thrusting his hands in front of him in innocence. His eyes begged Lily to believe them, and - though she could not believe it - she did. The boy did look an awful lot like James...a distant relative, perhaps...

"Why did James send you here?" Lily asked a bit more softly, not wanting her parents to hear. As it was, she was surprised that Petunia had not ratted her out...

_I'll live my life, you live yours, and we stay out of each other's business!_

Maybe Petunia had taken her seriously for the first time in years - maybe the sisters were really done with each other...

"He didn't," explained Harry, staring at Lily as though he was seeing a ghost. He was very pale as he looked at her, and Lily rose her eyebrows in surprise. Why was Harry looking at her that way? The two had never met before, or anything...

"Listen," said Harry suddenly. "What I'm going to tell you is the truth...but you're never going to believe me..."

Lily snorted, and rolled her perfect eyes, those same eyes shared by Harry Potter. "Try me," she laughed humorlessly.

"I'm from the future, I Portkeyed here from James Potter's house, and you're my mother!"

Harry was right - Lily didn't believe him. Not in the least.

* * *

><p>1995<p>

James's fists were starting to hurt very badly. He was sure they were bruised by that point, he'd been banging on Sirius's door so long. But the idiot still wouldn't let him in - Sirius had never been so reluctant to show James how he was family. But then, James decided, Sirius had also never been faced with such emotions. And not only that, but Sirius didn't even believe that James was _James_. So while his behavior was understandable, it still aggrivated James to no end, and so he continued to bash the door.

Though he knew he'd probably get in trouble for it, James whipped his wand from his back pocket, where he often kept it. He pointed it at the door, and said a quick yet fervent, _"Alohamora!"_ He heard a small click, and James twisted the doorknob slowly...

The door opened with a creak, and James wanted to slap himself across the face for not having thought of magic earlier. But all thoughts of sarcasm were erased as James stared at the room in front of him; he'd never seen anything so wrecked. The dresser was completely on its side, the drawers sticking out at odd angles. The small chair in the corner was turn to bits, and most of the linens were ripped from the bed. Sirius was on that bed asleep, by the looks of it. He'd slept through all of that _pounding _on the door? James snorted quietly, and continued to survey the room. Yes- this was definitely Sirius. James took a small step forward, and his foot stepped on something that made a crunching sound. James looked down, and saw that he had stepped on a framed photograph that was already pretty torn up.

James sucked in a shocked breath - the picture was familiar, yet foreign at the same time. That was _him_, but he looked about a year or so older, as did his friends. Sirius had an arm slung carelessly around him and Remus, and Peter was winking at the camera. He probably thought winking would make him look cool, but really, he looked like an even bigger nerd than usual. And next to James - no...no way...

_"Lily?"_ whispered James, watching the photograph in awe as Lily Evans - _the _Lily Evans! - planted a kiss willingly, right on James's cheek...

James took the picture from the frame, and folded it in half, placing it in his pocket. He crept closer and closer to Sirius's bed, afraid of waking him. He knew he'd have to eventually, but he'd have to be incredibly careful about it - one wrong move, and he'd probably end up with boneless legs or something...

James lowered his voice an octave, so as not to be recognized, and said carefully, "Sirius?"

Sirius stirred slightly, and groggily sat up in bed. He blinked rapidly a few times, clearing the sleep from his eyes, and he looked blindly towards James. "Wha'timeisit?" he mumbled, asking the sentence without any pauses, as thought it was one large word.

"I don't know," answered James honestly, coming nearer to Sirius's bed. He sat on the edge of it, and waited patiently while Sirius's eyes adjusted to the light. James felt a pang of sadness as he looked at his old friend - a day ago, Sirius had been bright, vibrant, and _happy_. The man in front of James showed no signs of any of those emotions - there were no laugh lines on his face, which was sullen and thin-looking. It seemed like Sirius had starved himself for a very long time, and was just now getting back into the habit of eating. His hair was very grown out, but thinning, and there were stress wrinkles all of his face. It killed James inside - no pun intended - to know that _this _was the fate of the little boy who'd once been terrified of being placed in Slytherin.

"What's wrong, Harry? Are you hurt?" asked Sirius, not yet fully awake. If James's guess was correct, then Sirius probably thought that everything to do with James had all been a very big, very wrong dream.

"I'm not hurt...I don't think so, anyway..." said James, self-consciously surveying his physical appearance. He was still in his striped pajamas and over-sized coat he'd fallen asleep in the night before; his house had been rather drafty. But James shook his head, messing up his hair, and he stared at Sirius. "I need to talk to you - I know you won't believe me, but it's important that we talk. Okay?"

"Is your scar hurting again?" asked Sirius, his gray eyes travelling to James's forhead. His face changed completely when he saw no scar. "What the-?" he mumbled, staring at James intensely. "Where's your scar? What's going on?"

"You won't believe me," insisted James. "But I'm not Harry."

"Then who are you?" laughed Sirius weakly, a guarded expression crossing his face. "Hermione Granger?"

"I don't even know who that is," James said quickly. "But that's not the point. Sirius, it's me - it's James. I don't know how, but I think I've gone forward in time or something. Please don't stalk out of the room again - we really should talk. I have some questions that need answered - like _how the bloody hell all of this happened_?"

Sirius stared at James without another word. There was something about his face - something that made Sirius realize that this boy was telling the truth. And he looked so bloody much like James...maybe...no! Sirius couldn't afford to hope like that! It would destroy him all over again, and -

"If it's a problem, I could prove it, of course," said James nonchalantly, jumping from the bed and into the mess that Sirius had made in the heat of anger. James concentrated for a few minutes, before his whole body began to rebuild itself into another form - the form of a large, glorious stag. Prongs swung his head proudly, tossing his antlers from one angle to another. It was clear by his expression that Sirius thought he was dreaming - but for once, he decided not to care.

* * *

><p><strong>Again, sorry for the wait! But I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter:) I'll try to update more regularly...I didn't realize how much I missed this story! Anywhoo, reviews are always appriciated, and I'll see you all later for Chapter 4! Mwah!<strong>

**~marauderette-47**


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